


Without ‘the Great’

by PuzzlesolverDramaqueen



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: FB era, Gellert is jealous, M/M, Vinda is cool, a bit of angst, and not without each other, political parties are fun, these to can’t live with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 16:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16495904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzlesolverDramaqueen/pseuds/PuzzlesolverDramaqueen
Summary: Gellert and Albus meet at a semi-political gala in italy, both trying to convince the other to backtrack on their beliefs.





	Without ‘the Great’

The newspapers wanted to provoke him, for sure. There was no other way. Everyday there was another article about Albus in there. Albus, who worked with Nicolas Flamel; Albus, who discovered a ridiculous amount of uses of dragon’s blood; Albus, who was in conflict with the British ministry; Albus, who discovered new methods of transfiguration. It was exasperating, really and Gellert almost suspected that Vinda deliberately always handed him exactly those articles.

 

Today it was Albus on a conference of the International Confederation of Wizards. There was a big picture on the title page of the _Zauberspiegel_ showing a group of politely smiling wizards. Albus was amongst the youngest of them, wearing a rather unimpressive midnight blue robe and his hair tied back. He was standing in the first row of the group right next to poland’s spoiled brat of a prince - _Aleksander_ with ‘ks’ and without ‘the great’ (Merlin, Albus had been obsessed with old muggle literature, this was just ridiculous.) The young man was not nearly as handsome as he liked to think - tall, admittedly, but quite lanky with horrible dark hair that framed his face in a most unpleasant way. Nonetheless Aleksander was leaning close to Albus with a smirk, probably whispering something, and Albus’ face split into a broad grin. The picture moved and Albus looked at the other man - laughing, now, his eyes beaming.

 

Gellert pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes at the newspaper, before crumpling it up and maneuvering it into the bin.

 

“Rosier!” He called, making his way down the staircases of the conference house he had... acquired. Vinda was standing in the grand office, connected to the conference hall instructing Krall and Krafft, who were setting up chairs and tables in preparation for their next meeting.

 

“No, Krafft, that goes in the back, I already told you!” She sighed, then turned to him. “We’d be done already if you had let Nagel help.”

 

Gellert waved his hand impatiently. “And I need someone with a bit of a brain in France, so deal with it. - Listen, what was the conference about this weekend?“

 

Vinda smirked. “Atena already told you.”

 

“She told me about their pathetic plans of keeping our cause in check.”

 

“Well, what else would you want to know?”

 

“Rosier,” he growled. “Don’t push it.”

 

She turned around and crossed his arms in front of her chest. “International relations.”

 

“Of what kind?”

 

“How would I know?”

 

“I didn’t sent Carrow there for fun and it’s your job to coordinate all the information, so did anything notable happen?”

 

“You mean notable as in related to Albus Dumbledore?”

 

“He is the greatest danger to our cause. He is more powerful and clever than all of the rest together.” He broadened his shoulders and looked at her more sternly. “I told you, I want to know what he’s doing.”

 

Vinda nodded, pulled an envelope out of the pocket of her coat and handed it to him. “Anastasio Pagani is hosting a gala next Saturday. He’s invited you. Dumbledore will be there, too. Knowing Pagani he’s exploring his options in case of a war, but his son is also looking for business partners, so they declared the palace diplomatic ground. You can go yourself.”

 

He quickly looked at the invitation - thick, white paper, gold lettering and the seal of italy’s president. He considered whether it was a good idea to go himself. It was always quite a risk to put himself out there - not that he was afraid, but it didn’t do his image any good if he had to publicly take down politicians and business men. But then again, maybe he would be able to convince Pagani to join his cause, or at least sponsor him and maybe he would even get a chance to talk to Albus (or get some bruises on Aleksander with ‘ks’).

 

“I will go,” he told Vinda.

 

“Good choice. Then you don’t have to pester one of us.”

 

“You have a job to do, don’t you? Tell Krafft he should use his limited amount of braincells, if he doesn’t want to be working in the kitchen next time.”

 

She grinned at him. “Will do.”

 

*

 

Albus didn’t really want to go. He wasn’t particularly fond of Anastasio Pagani, much less of his son and their acquaintances, but he knew it was an important event. He knew that the real politics didn’t happen at the official conferences and meetings, but behind the scenes of law and order, where the rich and revolutionists met and he liked to keep an eye on that. Should Travers make of that whatever he wanted. He could still pretend that it was because Aleksander had asked him to come - which technically wasn’t even a lie.

 

It was rather obvious that Aleksander fancied him and Albus had to admit he’d played with the thought - in the quiet darkness of his office - of giving in to that. He didn’t return Aleksander’s affection. He was rather witty, Albus had to admit, but entirely too vain and entirely _not_ Gellert and he wanted to slap himself for thinking like that, but turned his back on the rabbit hole of that thought early enough. He didn’t want to think about Gellert and a night with Aleksander was definitely not worth the emotional turmoil it would cause him.

 

He braided his hair a bit tighter than necessary in frustration and put on his new crimson robe, already wishing for the night to end.

 

At nine o’clock sharp, he took the portkey that was deposited in Hogsmeade and found himself in front of the charmed presidential palace of italy. It was a tall, artistic building of marble and teakwood on top of the palatine hill. The most striking feature were the marble statues of wolfs chasing each other around the walls of the palace, while two of them sat in front of the gate and growled at the visitors until they had proven their identity. Albus showed them his invite and entered, as soon as they had stepped aside.

 

The salon was already filled with people. House-elves were bustling around offering the guests alcohol and antipasti, while the chandeliers were crawling on the ceiling, casting dim beams of light on different spots in the room.

 

“Albus! It’s so good to see you.” Aleksander was making his way through the crowd, took a glass of sparkling fairy-wine and handed it to him, before kissing both of his cheeks. Albus smiled. “Nice to see you, too.”

 

“Come on, meet my friends.” Aleksander took his arm and lead him to a small group of young men - mostly business owners or aspiring politicians. They were rather dull, boasting about their fortune or power always trying to outdo whoever had spoken before them. Albus put up with it for a while only half listening, while he kept an eye on the rest of the room. He was surprised that he couldn’t find even one of Gellert’s acolytes, who had made habit of attending almost all remotely political events in the western hemisphere. He was just wondering whether he should be worried about it or whether there was something he’d missed, when he caught a pair of mismatched eyes staring at him across the room.

 

He almost dropped his glass in shock and Gellert’s lips curled into a smile. He was standing between Pagani and Fritz Habsburg, Austria’s chancellor, but his gaze was fixed on him.

 

Albus took a deep breath and downed the rest of his wine. His chest was aching as if it was being pulled in opposite directions and breathing suddenly seemed very complicated. Gellert tilted his head, said something to the other men and retreated to the balcony. He knew he shouldn’t follow, knew he should leave the party all together, but he couldn’t. As afraid as he was, he needed to talk to Gellert and this could very well be the only chance he would get. He told Aleksander he would get another drink and left the group. He grabbed another glass, avoided Pagani, who motioned for him and took another calming breath, before stepping out on the balcony.

 

With a flick of his wand the doors closed behind him and sealed themselves, protecting them from prying eyes. Gellert leaned against the balustrade and grinned at him. “Don’t tell me you’re ashamed, because you weren’t when _Aleksander_ was flirting with you.”

 

Albus slowly shook his head and stepped forward. “The ministry is already convinced that I am one of your supporters. I prefer not to fuel these rumours.” He took a sip of his wine. “And I didn’t know you were jealous.”

 

“I’m not jealous. I’m curious, why you’re wasting all your greatness on such a fool. Just like you’re wasting your potential at that school in the highlands.”

 

Albus sighed. “Is there a reason we’re having this conversation?”

 

Gellert lifted his hands in mock defense. “As I see it, _you_ followed _me_ outside.”

 

Albus tilted his head. “Well, then I can go back in, I suppose.” He turned around facing the door, but was pulled back by a string of magic until his back forcefully hit the balustrade.

 

“Don’t be difficult, Albus,” Gellert said, swirling the wine in his glass, making small bubbles rise and vanish into the air. He was now standing so close that Albus could feel the warmth of his body and something heavy sank in his stomach. “Let’s talk.”

 

Albus took a big sip of his wine and waved his hand. “Talk, then” he demanded. Of course, he wanted to talk, wanted to hear that there was still something left in Gellert of the boy he’d met so many years ago. He just hoped Gellert wouldn’t start with Ariana. He couldn’t talk about that, not now, he wasn’t ready for it. He knew he _should_ ask, he needed to know, who had done it, but at the same time... he wasn’t sure he could bear the answer. But Gellert didn’t have to know that.

 

“Join me.”

 

Albus responded with a curt laugh and Gellert grabbed his arm, looked him in the eyes. “It’s our cause. For the Greater Good.”

 

“It is your cause.”

 

“And you believed in it just as much.”

 

“But not like this! People are dying, you are turning children into soldiers. This is terrorism, not a revolution.”

 

Gellert rolled his eyes. “Your are being dramatic.”

 

“No, you are being cruel.”

 

For a moment they stared at each other, then Gellert smiled. “Alright, what do you propose?”

 

“Will you consider what I say?”

 

“I am *listening*.”

 

“Stop.” Albus straightened his back, wrenched his arm from Gellert’s grip and instead took his hand. “It’s not too late.”

 

“I cannot stop. You know that. But if you helped me, I would be willing to accept different strategies. You could rule with me - you could change he world.”

 

He shook his head and let go of Gellert’s hand, turning around to look down at the marble wolfs chasing each other on the palace grounds. “I cannot join you.”

 

“But you cannot stop me, either.” Gellert leaned back against the balustrade as well and stared at him.

 

“I will, if you continue with this violence.”

 

Gellert snorted. “No, you won’t. We belong together, you cannot go against me.”

 

“You seem quite sure of that.”

 

“I am.” Gellert leaned in close, his voice now almost a whisper. “You cling to me as much as I cling to you. Look at us, both begging the other to return.”

 

“I want to return to you, but not at this cost.”

 

“You once believed in The Greater Good.”

 

“I was wrong. Nobody has the right to rule over another. And I do believe in the Greater Good, but not like this. Not innocent people dying for your ideals.”

 

“It’s for their best - for all their best. When I am done with the world, their will be no separation anymore, no fear, no pain... no Obsc-“

 

“Stop!” He stood up tall. “Stop that, it doesn’t work with me, anymore.”

 

“Does this?” Gellert put a hand on his neck and pulled him in, before he could even think about fending him off and when he felt Gellert’s lips on his, he wasn’t sure he wanted to, anymore.

 

“Aren’t you doing the same? Ruling over others? Placing your pieces - Scamander and his friends - where they need to be, without them knowing about it.” Gellert asked, his face still so close that their breaths mingled.

 

“No. I am guiding them and that is in order to stop you, to save people.”

 

“Ah, you mean it’s best for the world? You mean, you know better and you are doing it for _your_ Greater Good?” He remained silent, but Gellert laughed quietly against his lips. “We are the same, Albus, that’s why we fit so well. Join me, be with me again.”

 

Albus closed his eyes and leaned his forhead against Gellert’s. Gellert still smelled of oranges and sandalwood and rain and his hair still felt the same beneath his fingers and his arms were still warm and homey around him. He couldn’t think of anything he’d missed as much as he’d missed this in all his life.

 

*

 

Albus was stubborn, as always. He was not a terrorist, but revolutions didn’t go without a bit of violence. No revolution was ever received well, it was always a fight - in the end that was what made it a revolution. Albus had definitely spent too much time in his high castle. But he was convinced Albus would be able to value his cause again, with just a bit of time, if he’d just see how much better it was to live in freedom. “We could be together again. I miss you.” It was not a lie. He did miss Albus dearly. Sometimes he woke in the middle of the night and searched for Albus next to him, but the bed was always cold.

 

“I miss you, too.” Albus kissed him again, very desperately so. “But this world is more important than you or me.” And then he pulled back. Gellert felt the loss of closeness and warmth more intensely than he’d expected and he saw Albus adjusting his robes against the cold as well. Albus opened the doors again, but kept looking at him. “You can still stop. It’s not too late. If you surrender they will put you in prison, but not for long. If I have to stop you, it will be for the rest of your life.”

 

“You’d let me rot in Azkaban like your father?” He put his hands in his pockets and crooked his head, but there was burning sensation in his chest that made him want to inflict the same on Albus and maybe a curse on everyone else he would talk to tonight.

 

Albus didn’t even flinch - which was frustrating, but maybe he’d just gotten better at hiding it - and turned around to join the party again.


End file.
